“They was probably figuring on some damn fool happening along this way—” he began, but the Missourian cut him short.
“They must have had you in mind then,” he said. “Hold on, Mr. Orphan, can you tell me why these heah parties pulled up to the top of this heah hill?”
“To burn their wagons,” retorted Jim sarcastically. “Ain't that plain?”
“And why did they want to burn their outfit?”
“Because their stock had all give out; that's plain, ain't it?” said Jim promptly.
“Exactly; and the stock gave out the minute the wagons was burnt; but I don't reckon you see anything curious in that,” retorted the Missourian triumphantly.
While they were speaking, he had been pursuing his investigations in a constantly widening circle. Now he stepped quickly toward a shallow ditch the rains had cut in the south slope of the hill. Jim was at his side, and the two men came to a sudden pause on the bank of this ditch.
“I guess it's a bundle of bedding—or clothes—” said Jim nervously, and with a tremor in his voice.
“I reckon there's another guess coming to you,” said the Missourian as he cautiously slipped into the ditch.
“I'd be careful if it was me. Maybe it was the cholera,” cautioned Jim.